


Stopped My Dreaming

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Dream Bubble, Gen, ending a viscious cycle of revenge is more emotionally draining than it sounds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-17
Updated: 2011-06-17
Packaged: 2017-10-20 12:31:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/212800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vriska and Aradia are a little too late and long overdue for a reunion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stopped My Dreaming

When she wakes up, the floor isn't there. It's a world of white swirling nothingness, colored lights making patterns like light filtering through an iridescent ocean. She floats, wings unmoving, soothed by the silence.

And then she remembers.

There is a prick in the middle of her chest, between her ribs, and the whiteness shifts to gray. She plummets to the re-formed ground, landing in a puddle of warm, blue blood. It smears her tunic and her hands as she tries to sit up, tries to lift her head, tries to keep her eyes open, tries to remember how to breathe. The gray grows darker and darker and her cheeks are wet with blue blood and blue tears and she's supposed to be immortal, invincible, unstoppable, so why does everything feel so heavy?

"Hi, Vriska."

Someone lifts her gently, hands supporting her as the gray lightens and the colored lights return. Slowly, she regains her balance and raises her eyes.

"You'll be fine, it just takes some time to get used to."

It's Aradia. Aradia, with bright gold eyes and ruby wings. Aradia, with her hands on Vriska's shoulders, firm and heavy and most definitely alive.

"Oh, I guess I should tell you," she says, and it's shock to hear her voice, her real voice, unfiltered by speakers and untuned by microchips. "You died."

She stares her down, but Aradia's calm expression does not falter. Vriska looks down at her tunic, fabric stiff with dried blood, and brings a shaking hand to the emblem. The hole is wide enough to slip two fingers through, and she does.

She feels nothing.

"I don't understand," she sputters, angry and confused. She jabs at the wound, nails poised to hurt, and still, nothing. "I don't _understand!_ "

Aradia reaches for her shoulder, and Vriska shrugs away. "Vriska, it's not your fault."

" _It's not fair!_ " she shrieks, voice cracking as she claws at the patch of blue on her chest, scratches at it madly, but the stain remains.

Aradia's fingers are suddenly around her wrist and her cheek is warm against Vriska's own. Vriska struggles, but Aradia only tightens her embrace.

"It's not your fault," Aradia whispers, and Vriska thrashes against her, hands finally grasping Aradia's neck. Her nails dig in, leaving dark spots on the smooth skin, but Aradia doesn't wince.

"It's not fair," Vriska shouts, "that you get another chance! That I never get to start over!" She feels Aradia's pulse beat under her palm, feels the slow contraction of her throat as Aradia answers.

"I forgive you."

Finally, Vriska begins to cry.

Aradia wraps her arms around her gently, and it feels so strange. Vriska half-expected steel and bolts, as smooth and cold as the corpse she was. But Aradia is soft and solid as Vriska places her head on her red-clothed shoulder and weeps, shoulders heaving and arms limp at her sides. She sobs until her head swims and her eyes are dry of tears, until she feels empty of everything.

"You were wrong," Vriska sobs. "It was all my fault."

The floor evaporates into whiteness again, but Aradia only hugs her closer, wings scattering the shifting light.


End file.
